


Aflame

by rWolfWrites



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, Hate Fucking?, Hate fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2019-12-30 17:55:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18320339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rWolfWrites/pseuds/rWolfWrites
Summary: Cassian and Nesta, while 'alone' in the Illyrian Steppes, can't seem to find a way to get along.Or can they?No, probably not.A one-shot with potential(?)





	Aflame

Nesta was waiting with a snarl when he returned. Putting her in a time out for the day may not have been the best way to ‘connect’ with her, but what was done was done. He was tired of her blatantly ignoring him all day, and until she learned, she could stay in the house.

“Evening, sweetheart,” said Cassian lightly, closing the door behind him quickly. It wouldn’t do to have the neighbors looking in. A subtle sniff bore no trace of any other male, which was perhaps why she looked about ready to rip him to shreds. He hadn’t scented a male on her since arriving two weeks ago. The sobriety was forced, but the abstinence was all Nesta.

Or so he thought.

He caught the boot thrown at him, ignoring her, not rising to the bait, the call in his blood to  _make her_ be civil. He set the boot on the floor by the door. Then he caught its mate, sighing and returning it to the first boot. He wondered if she actually thought she could hurt him physically.

“You’re not allowed to see that damned shopkeeper,” Nesta spat. Cassian struggled to keep the surprise from his face. He’d been in twice that week, just to talk to Emerie. She was a decent enough gage for Nesta’s reactions, though admittedly in a better state of mind. Nesta’s hands dropped to her hips as she seethed, “You don’t get to scare off all my males and go fucking whomever you please. We’re in this  _together_ , remember?”

Cassian winced at her sister’s words—the  orders they’d both been given. At least he’d managed to consistently coax anger out of Nesta. She wasn’t as cold as she liked to think.

“I haven’t said anything to the Illyrians,” Cassian said truthfully, waltzing past her toward the kitchen. He needed a drink, but there wouldn’t be any in the house until Nesta started to pick up the broken pieces of herself. Another of Feyre’s orders.

Nesta gripped his wrist with her bony hand. Cassian suppressed a shudder at her icy skin. “I don’t give a damn. They’re worse than the males in Velaris! Tell them I can fuck who I please without fear of retribution on your part!”

Cassian looked back at her. Her cheeks were flushed with anger, her stormy eyes narrowed with distaste. She was only getting thinner. Maybe the only thing that gave her any appetite was sex. He didn’t care. He had enough unhealthy coping mechanisms to recognize them in another. She was starting to crack. Then again, maybe that would be even worse. “I’m not going to whore you out, Nesta. Your sister-“

“Fuck my sister!”

“Rhys more than has that covered,” Cassian said smoothly. Her nails dug into his flying leathers.

“You think you’re clever, don’t you?” Nesta said. “If you don’t give me what I want, I’ll take it.”

Like she had with the Cauldron. Cassian hadn’t seen this sort of determination on her face before. Gods, she was beautiful, even as she wasted away. And that hint of a smirk said she knew it.

“Are you going to force yourself on some poor novice Illyrian?” Cassian taunted. He doubted she could. Even if she tried, most Illyrians went half-mad with lust at even the slightest scent of another’s arousal. It may have been in poor taste, but her novice would end up needing her, or thinking he did. If Nesta decided to stop, he wouldn’t, more than likely. Then Cassian would have to kill him. That certainly wouldn’t help things.

“Of course not,” Nesta said, releasing his wrist. Cassian warily turned from her, striding through the wall toward the kitchen. He listened for her plan to begin, for her to explain or hint cryptically at what she would do.

Something brushed the outside edge of his wing. Cassian whirled, snatching the wrists of his attacker and pinning them to the wall, pressing his body against them so they couldn’t move.

Nesta gasped breathily, her back arching to press her chest into Cassian’s, her hips canting against his leg between hers.

“You want  _me_ to fuck you senseless?” Cassian growled. Nesta didn’t give any indication that she’d heard him. “You want  _me_ to mark you so thoroughly that everyone in this camp will know  _exactly_ who fucked you? You can’t kick me out in the morning, and no other Illyrian will touch you after.”

“Afraid you can’t satisfy me?” Nesta crooned. Cassian kept her wrists pinned to the wall with one hand, the other brushing against her hair, her cheek, her throat. Mother save him, he wanted her. If this was the only way she let him get close, it would have to be enough.

He fisted a hand into her hair and kissed her. Her lips were thinner than the last time, but she was greedier. Her tongue took opportunity of every tiny motion he made, sweeping against his. It was adorable, that she thought she could distract him with it. He had five hundred years of experience with the opposite sex.

He hadn’t squandered that time in the slightest.

He tugged on her hair, sucking along her jaw and neck, biting lightly at her ear, then reached her pulse-point. He sucked harder, feeling her gasp, feeling her body tense. He bit her there, harder than he needed to. She rolled her hips forward against his thigh, a strangled moan leaving her. The scent of her arousal became overwhelming.

“So  _that’s_ how you like things, sweetheart,” Cassian said into the crook of her neck. He kissed the angrily growing mark lightly three times, then trailed lower, to the neck of her gown. He released her hands to reach around and unlace the slate grey garb. She grabbed his hair tightly and pulled his mouth back to her. Cassian let her, waiting to see would do. She reached for his trousers as her dress sagged down her shoulders. She released Cassian for a moment, shucking it off and twisting his back to the wall with a firm grip on his tattooed shoulder. Cassian shifted his wings, sucking her tongue into his mouth. He found her waist. There were scraps of lace over her hips. A venture upward discovered the same at her breasts. Nesta gripped his wrist and tried to pull his hand there.

She wanted to be in control. Cassian had found it was hard to lose oneself if in perfect control. Feyre had told him to help her sister. He was going to do just that.

A flare of red light and Nesta’s arms were pinned together above her head. She let out a whine that Cassian hadn’t known she could make. All the same, he walked her back toward the kitchen table. He lifted her onto it, the bindings at her hands dragging her back, keeping them on the flat surface.

“Do you want me to stop?” Cassian asked, bending over her, bracing himself with one forearm.

“J-just fuck me already,” Nesta grumbled weakly. Cassian smiled, kissing her lightly. She strained forward but he pulled back. He wasn’t about to make things easy for her. Not after the year he’d had.

“I have no interest in being anything less than the most thorough fuck of your entire existence,” Cassian whispered. Nesta whimpered into his mouth as he captured her lips again. He distracted her exactly as he needed to. When he pressed two fingers to the heat between her legs through the lace, she keened, her back arching off the table.

“You- you-“ Nesta gasped. Cassian pushed around her panties to stroke idly at the bundle of nerves there. Her face grew even more flushed, her breath catching. If he, in that moment, had liked her any more, he might’ve said she was beautiful. But he didn’t care enough to.

“Seems to me that no male has ever taken the time he should have with you,” Cassian murmured. He kissed the bruise he’d made again. His mouth worked lower, his Siphons shredding apart the bra with half a thought. Cassian kept her attention elsewhere, dipping a finger into her. Mother above, she was wet. He bit the underside of her breast until she keened again. Then the other. Perhaps he should leave seven, just to prove his point.

“Don’t—need— _gods_ —time,” Nesta moaned. As soon as she’d tried to speak Cassian had added a finger to her pleasuring, doubled down on her clit, and sucked a nipple into his mouth. She screamed, her hips lifting wildly as she clenched around his fingers. Cassian grinned around her breast. As many males as she’d had, she was still wildly inexperienced. Nesta’s head thumped quietly against the table. “It’s a terrible shame. I won’t smell like you after all.”

Cassian moved his mouth to her other breast, removing his fingers from her heat. “You poor thing. You’ve never come more than once at a time have you, sweetheart?”

She’d likely never been pleasured sober either, which was just another edge he’d use but didn’t need.

“What do you mean?” Nesta asked. He hoped he wasn’t imagining the anticipation in her voice. Cassian kissed the valley between her breasts down to her navel. A bite above the surprisingly well managed curls covering her. Her hips bucked slightly.

“I  _mean_ , I’m not done with you yet,” Cassian said against her porcelain skin. “Unless you want me to be?” He glanced up in time to see her shake her head. He knew it’d be a while until he got her to beg for him. Nesta didn’t yet know what she’d be begging for. He cupped her ass and lifted her until he could pull off her panties. He tossed them under the table, where he could collect them later. He was going to take her panties every time he had her until she had nothing to wear.

Cassian needed to be the best fuck she’d ever had because he needed her to come back to  _him_. If she went elsewhere, he couldn’t keep her safe. Not just in body and mind, but heart too. She didn’t know it, but he hadn’t had any female since he’d met her. He’d been waiting for this for over a year, and he wasn’t going to fuck it up by being average. Cassian had never been average in his life. There was the added bonus of her absolutely divine reactions to him, which he hadn’t at all been expecting.

Like the way she cried his name when he put his mouth to her. Mm, divine indeed. He licked her in broad stripes, pinned her hips down to keep her from bucking too hard, sucked at her bundle of nerves. She was letting out something between a moan and a whine, and it was finer than any other sound in the world. It was the sort of thing a faerie tricked a human out of in a deal.

She climaxed, screaming again. Cassian loved that scream. They could probably hear it halfway down the mountain. Cassian bit the inside of her thigh the same way he had her neck, lest any other male stubbornly think she was unclaimed. Nesta’s legs wrapped around his head tightly. Cassian kissed her core lightly, pulling her legs apart to rise up and meet her gaze.

Her eyes were half-closed, glazed. They found his lazily, like a cat having finished a feast. Cassian kissed her slowly, thoroughly. He wasn’t done yet, not by a long shot. “May I continue?”

“There- there’s more?” Nesta’s eyes took on a wicked gleam. Cassian kissed her again, releasing the restraints on her wrists. She pulled at his fighting leathers. Cassian had quite forgotten to take off his own clothes. He stood straight, stepping away from the table. She rose as well, her toes touching the floor as she braced herself with her arms. Nesta naked was something to behold. Her nipples were peaked, her breasts red from his attentions. Her legs were shaking slightly. Cassian shed his leathers, using magic to help him along. “You ruined my bra.”

“Come now, was that scrappy little thing there for anything? It practically begged me to tear it to shreds,” Cassian said lowly. He saw the flash in her eyes of lucid thought. She was about to let him fuck her senseless. He’d already brought her to ecstasy twice. He hesitated as her eyes roved over the skin he’d exposed, including his moderately impressive length. Waiting for her to walk away, just to leave him hard and wanting. She would.

Then she dropped to his knees, her eyes never leaving his cock. Judging by the slight twitch of her mouth, she noticed it harden further from that action alone. Mother above, he was going to explode if she so much as  _breathed_ near his member.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” Cassian pulled her to her feet. A not-so-small voice in the back of his head cried out in protest. He explained to it and Nesta, “I’m not going to squander a single second where I might have myself buried in you.” He kissed her roughly, pulling her hips to his until his length touched her stomach. She moaned into his mouth. “Bend over the table.”

She did, without the argument he was expecting. He’d let her get desperate. He couldn’t let her come to regret it. Slick was running down her thighs. He tested her with his fingers again. She sighed, wiggling her hips against him. Then Cassian pulled away and eased forward.

Cassian had had many females. Nesta had had many males. He’d never made that half-laugh, half-groan sound before he’d sunk in to his hilt in the velvety warmth of her. She’d never made that half-moan, half-scream sound before he’d bottomed out inside her.

Perfect. He was  _perfect_ inside of her. He had to think about Amren’s other form and Bryaxis copulating to keep himself from relinquishing his carefully crafted control. Five-hundred years old and he could’ve come at the first stroke.

But he didn’t.

Nesta made a sound with every snap of his hips. She wouldn’t have been so loud if it hadn’t been him. He’d lingered on the rooftops around her apartment enough times to know she was typically quiet in bed. Not this time. Nesta was well and truly unhinged as he fucked her through her third climax. She did not stop moaning his name as he continued to slam into her. The table protested under the force of his movements. He kissed and bit and sucked at her back and shoulders to stifle his groans.  _Fuck_ , she was slick. Nesta was babbling incoherently by her fourth climax. The viselike clenching around him drew a roar as he came, deep inside her.

The whole encampment would’ve heard them. Cassian didn’t care.

Cassian slumped over her, not bothering to withdraw fully. He could feel her pounding heart where his chest met her back. He lazily mouthed at her shoulder, then up her neck. He felt her heart stutter with every touch.

“Are all Illyrians that good?” Nesta asked. Cassian nibbled on the pointed end of her ear. She moaned low in the back of her throat.

“No. They skip to the last bit, no matter what you do or say. They’d fuck you bloody and not care if you didn’t come once,” Cassian said honestly. He held out his hand beneath the table and his Siphons deposited her panties there. He couldn’t stop his smirk. He whispered to her, “If you want something like that again, you’ll have to come to  _me_.” He bit her neck again for good measure. She gave a mindless sigh, turning to face him.

He withdrew from her before she could kiss him and muddle his mind, grabbing his leathers and marching upstairs to take a bath.

“I still don’t like you!” Nesta shouted after him.

“You don’t have to!” Cassian answered. Under his breath, he added, “You’ll beg either way.”


End file.
